Dreams

The dreams have been vivid this week:

Last night I was wandering through my high school relationships, trying to make amends for all the ways that I was immature, more than a decade ago.

The night before that, I was to be hung. I knew that it was on the schedule, but I kept procrastinating in my cell … checking livejournal … reading comics. Finally I looked up and had missed my appointment with the gallows. I rushed out, and the executioner was coming to get me. He was really irked. Said that he had planned to talk to me about a pardon, since I seem like a nice guy, but if I couldn’t even be on time to my own hanging then he didn’t see the point. I finally roused myself to ask why I was to be executed … and it was totally a misunderstanding. Wrong place, wrong time. Everyone agreed, but also seemed to agree that I should have been on time if I wanted to raise these sorts of issues. I woke up as the noose went around my neck. It felt … bad.

Tuesday night, I was fighting. Fighting and fighting. Sometimes winning and sometimes losing … but fighting.

In other news, I got a new scale. It measures body fat. Mine measured at 22% this morning. The chart says that this is “moderate”, as opposed to “good”. “Moderate?” I work out every day! I’m vegetarian! For God’s sake, what does this scale want from me? Why did I buy a device that will do nothing except disapprove of me?

That works out to 38.72 pounds of fat, by the way, which is just a nasty mental image. I’ve hefted 40lb sacks of cat litter. Ick.